The Power of Death
by Kuja's Swan
Summary: The remake of a previous fanfiction, almost like a play (Inu-Yasha, Final Fantasy 9, Trigun) (Reviews are very welcome)
1. Act one

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Disclaimer

I dun own Inu-Yasha, Final Fantasy, or Trigun~ Sue me an' get nuttin', fer I are ish flat broke~

Iifa Tribal stood on the balcony outside her room of the brilliant Desert Palace that starlit night, gazing at the full-grown moon.

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Tribal. That name pierced into her like the end of a rapier. How she hated it.

...Or, rather, it was the attitudes of the desert people she resented. Could they not accept their king's daughter for who she was, regardless of the heritages that ran through her blood?

She sighed deeply, out of both frustration and a deep, powerful longing for respect among the people her father ruled over. She finally understood why Inu-Yasha, one of the highest ranking guards of the palace, acted the way he did, for he too was a Halfbreed.

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Halfbreed.

That word, also, was not on her side. They whispered it when she walked among the ancient temples of the Summoner Village, they stared at her blankly when she accompanied her parents in the Black Mage Village, and even received sad or ugly glances from the usually friendly, joyous Dwarves of Conde Petie. And the ill-spirited servants wondered why her personality seemed no better than that of a mouse's.

She raised her slender, pianists' hand to her forehead, as if in a headache. The great, dark blue layers of her most elegant dress ruffled with her hasty, agitated movements.

No, no, _no, _you're not going to think of yourself like that, Iifa. You may hear these people every day, but you're most likely never going to see them again in your life, and the only person you're ever going to truly spend the rest of your life with is _you_, Iifa. You're going to grow into a little old woman well before your time if this goes on for much longer-

The rustle of a cloak being thrown.

The young halfbreed woman froze, immediately clutching the jewel in the chest of her gown with both hands. That sort of sound deep in the hours of the night could only spell trouble... All of the servants were asleep, she had checked before she came out. What of the guards...?

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Dear sweet Tai Yang. Someone's here.

Her heart rate had suddenly gone up. What was she doing out here, if she knew what was going on? She had to go get inside and alert her mother and father-

The crack of a bullet in the air. Pain blossomed on her back like the horrid petals of the Myconids found in the Ancient Tree of Life she was named after. 

A breath of agony made its way between her lips drained of color, clutching her abdomen with both arms in a very vain attempt to stop the horror, and she crumbled to her knees. 

A flash of white, a cry from one of the servants, and she was very much unwillingly thrown into the dark, neverending pits of unconsiousness.


	2. Act two

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Disclaimer

Nagasaki belongs t' mah friend, Adan~ Used with permission~ Yee-up. Iifa shall forever be mine~ I dun own FF, Trigun, or Inu-Yasha~ Keep that in mind~

Kuja Tribal, Iifa's ambitious father, paced up and down one of his elegant halls, a dangerous brew of anxiety and infuriation.

Who on Gaia gave themselves the right to harm his daughter, one of the few pieces of family he had left? Was it a spy from one of the other continents, or maybe an angry gunman holding a grudge...?

He had far too many conclusions drawn from ungodly amounts of ideas. If he kept this up at this rate, he was going to cause himself to loose his own mind.

He ceased his obsessive pacing, silver-white tail lashing out from beside one of his thigh-high boots, and leaned against a dark purple wall frustratedly. His thoughts were still racing like a crazed horse, and he pulled the reigns as hard as he could.

First thing's first. Was his daughter alright? Dear sweet Dragon Goddess Tai Yang, please let her be okay.

His four silver, proud feathers drooped over his liquid silver-blue-purple hair. Then horse had slowed down to no more than a sad walk, it's head lowered.

It was amazingly how one's mood can change so quickly.

The man that shot her... He was very certain it was a man... One of the servants just so happened to be awake and caught a glimpse of him. He was wearing a light cloak, though the servant admitted that it was hard to whether it was white or a very light shade of grey, and that made it annoyingly difficult to try and apprehend him. White or grey cloaks were only worn by the soft-spoken White Mages, the well-known healers, and this was certainly not the work of a healer.

As if his mind had been read, the White Mage that had been quickly summoned to treat Iifa's wound stepped almost shyly from her room, his large white sleeves completely covering his hands as he clamped them politely in front of him. Kuja's frantic azure eyes met his brown stone pupils.

"She will live. The wound will never heal correctly. The bullet was large."

Silently, he turned, vanishing into the darkness of the far side of the hall like a lonely priest.

Kuja immediately stalked into his daughter's room, cursing harshly under his breath. What else was to be expected of a White Mage.

At least there were no arguments.

His steps slowed as he stepped up beside Iifa's bed. Kikyou, the halfbreed's beautiful mother, sat in a chair beside the bed, and Milly and Meryl, the two usually characteristic maids stood not too far from Iifa's nightstand. None of them looked at all happy, and their king was now feeling the same way, suffering another mood swing.

He sat down beside his wife. She didn't look up.

Iifa lay on her back under the snow-white covers, her luscious midnight hair spread all over the pillows, her expression serene. Almost too much for comfort.

Kuja shifted.

"Iifa, dear...?"

The halfbreed's eyes fluttered open, startling both her parents, though neither moved. Her eyes were the exact same color as her father's.

She said nothing, her puzzled expression only speaking. She tried to sit up, much to her visitors' dismay.

"_Ah_!"

It was as if she pushed back by an annoyed, unseen beast, and Milly, the tallest of the two maids, rushed over to the bed, her eyes wide with worry. Meryl was left helplessly behind.

"Princess, you mustn't get up! You're hurt. You need your rest, 'kay?"

"Hurt...?" That puzzled look was still on Iifa's beautiful heart-shaped face. Remembrance took it's place.

"Oh..."

Kuja smiled suddenly, getting up from his seat. Kikyou was clearly relieved.

"You need your rest, my dear. Everything'll be alright."

He bent down over her and gave her a quick but loving kiss on the forehead, relaying in his mind in that exact same moment that everything certainly _wasn't _going to be alright. This could turn into a dangerously serious situation.

Sighing, though quietly so nobody would hear and worry, Kuja nodded once at his wife, and the thought of leaving the room and contemplating his next move soon diminished when his eyes fell on the doorway. His painted lips parted unconsiously.

There, now standing in the open doorway, was a tall, lean man wearing a purple and white outfit called a _shozoko_. The king felt a small sense of suprised recognition.

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Only shinobi wear those outfits... That must mean...

The man was still standing quietly, though he shifted something in his arms, and Kuja realized it was a bundle of flowers, obviously for Iifa.

"May I come in?"

His voice was very slightly deep, but young and smooth as a summoner's Eidolon stone, and full of solemn but kind personality. One of Kuja's feathers twitched.

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Nagasaki Iaejoken.

"...Excuse me? I was asking if I could come in."

"Oh... I-I'm sorry. You may enter."

A hint of a mysterious grin crept upon the young man's lips, and he entered like a gliding raven. His pitch black braided ponytail, as was the color of his hair, bounced along the small space between his shoulders along with his steps.

Kuja took a few steps back as Nagasaki approached the bed. He caught a glimpse of Kikyou's wide-eyed stare, and sat back down next to her.

"I'm terribly sorry about your misfortunate accident, Lady Iifa. I hope these will cheer you up."

He lay down the flowers, the amazingly rare flowers seemingly made of crystal only found in certain places of the Ice Caves on the Mist Continent millions of miles away, just as soon as Iifa opened her eyes and curiously looked up. A near inaudible sound came from her, and Nagasaki's grin turned into a smile.

"It's been a long time, my lady."

His only response from her was the princess's now completely round pupils of eyes boring into his soft ruby orbs. Iifa gently wrapped her weak, trembling arms around her gift.

Nagasaki gave her one last warm look, took a few steps back and bowed respectively to all of them (Even Milly and Meryl, who were both giving him strange looks), and left without a sound. He hadn't changed at all. Iifa held her bundle closer to her chest.

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How did he find these? And how did he find out about the incident so quickly? I know it has been less than several hours...Well, the shinobi have their ways.


End file.
